


Got Me an Appetite

by zedi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beta Niall Horan, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Girl Direction, Girls Kissing, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Harry, Omega Louis, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, slick fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zedi/pseuds/zedi
Summary: So it's something, and Louis isn't sure how to approach it. She doesn't want to sound ungrateful. The past few months have been heaven, and she doesn't want to make Harry feel like Louis doesn't worship the ground she walks on (ok, a bit over dramatic, but sometimes it feels like that). She just wants to make her girlfriend come.





	Got Me an Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> prompt for this submission to the gaybo was "24. lesbian o/o where person A is worried about how wet she gets and person B is obsessed with person A’s slick" which HELL YEAH so this is mostly useless distracted lesbians, learning how to communicate with your partner, and deliciously sweet sex!!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! ;)

* * *

 

Louis notices it after a full month of dating Harry.

At first, she was just caught up in the splendor of _dating_ Harry, taking her out on dates and getting to share grinning kisses. But once she does notice, it's hard to get it out of her head.

See, whenever things begin to get heated, the two of them grasping at each other and mouths slack with moans, Louis has never _once_ had the pleasure of getting Harry off.

There's been plenty of times when they were rolling on the bed, air sweet with pheromones and bodies pink with flushed skin, that found Louis writhing under Harry's plush mouth, coming in pulses over her tongue. Plenty of times in Louis’ beat up car where Harry's hand would slip below Louis’ waistband to play between her legs. Plenty of times they've rubbed against each other, too impatient to take their clothes off, until they've both moaned and shuddered together.

So it's not like Harry's against sex or something, not that Louis can tell.

But anytime Louis tries to slip her hand under Harry's skirt, or kiss down her body to where that honey-sweet smell is strongest, Harry will instead move that wandering hand to cup her breast, guide her face back into a kiss. And Louis’ not complaining about either of those alternatives, but she'd kind of like to be directly responsible for at least _one_ orgasm Harry has. She wants to feel Harry pulse and throb around her fingers, get to taste her slick. Hell, she'd like to _see_ how wet she gets, as up to this point she hasn't even gotten beneath her cute cotton knickers.

So it's something, and Louis isn't sure how to approach it. She doesn't want to sound ungrateful. The past few months have been heaven, and she doesn't want to make Harry feel like Louis doesn't worship the ground she walks on (ok, a bit over dramatic, but sometimes it feels like that). She just wants to make her girlfriend come.

She expresses as much to Niall while they're lazing about the beta's flat one Saturday. “Every time, Niall! We've done like, everything else? Am I just being an entitled bag of dicks? I don't want to be an entitled bag of dicks.”

“Chill out, Lou.” Niall groans from her spot on the floor, starfished and down to her underwear. They’re having a sudden heatwave, and Niall's flat doesn't even have the simplest of air conditioning. Not even a fan. Niall's flat is shit.

“Your flat is shit.” Louis intones, flopping onto her stomach on her own patch of floor. “Can't 'chill out’, I'm melting.”

“Focus, Lou, we were talking about Harry. Remember Harry? Your omega girlfriend? The one you’ve been pining after since the start if the year? Ring any bells?”

“Ah fuck off, 'm b’tween thoughts.” Louis wishes she had something to throw at her friend. Like a shoe maybe. “Is there a correct way to ask her about it? Without coming off wrong?”

“Just tell her what you told me? Honesty and communication are the building blocks of a good relationship, you know.” The beta rolls over a few feet before coming to a rest, sighing. “You're both omegas, pretty sure she won't think you're being a knothead. Plus, she knows you. Better than anyone, I think. So stop blubbering on me floor and go talk to your girlfriend like an adult.”

Louis scrunches up her nose, feeling overheated and childish. Her response comes out in a pout. “I hate that you're smart. Go away.”

“It's _my_ flat.”

“Fine then, _I'll_ leave.” Louis huffs, putting on a show of being stroppy. It turns a bit legitimate, though, as slipping on her clothes makes her even more hot than before. Niall points and laughs from the floor, arm merely extended along the linoleum and finger barely lifted in Louis’ direction.

Louis makes sure to chuck a shoe at the beta before leaving the flat. The squawk Niall lets out is a small satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

She’s on a date with Harry, the other omega sucking on the straw in her milkshake and generally being a distraction from whatever it was Louis was going to talk to her about. And she’s staring, she knows she is, but Harry’s got an ever darkening blush on her cheeks and Louis just wants to kiss there to find out if she can feel the warmth on her lips.

Yeah, they're definitely still in the honeymoon phase.

Long fingers reach up to tuck phantom curls behind an ear, Harry still not used to the spur of the moment haircut she got a few days ago. It looks cute, curls piled messily on her head, floppy and looser than when they were grown out. It also shows off the fading love bites Louis left there from when Harry first unveiled the new look, which she thinks is a plus. She watches Harry’s fingers shrink back from the empty air, then tug awkwardly at her ear instead.

“You’re staring, Lou.” The words are soft, a teasing lilt to them that means Harry secretly likes it. It took way too long for Louis to realize it, too, a whole semester’s worth of second guessing and over analyzing.

“Don't I always stare?” Louis says, her teasing tone coming out a lot more raw than intended. Fuck, this girl has her ruined.

Harry bites back a grin, shy and thrilled and oh so sweet. “Yeah, but usually when you look at me like _that_ , it's not in the middle of a diner.” She wraps her fingers around the cool throat of her milkshake glass, rings clinking lightly. “Might want to tone it down a little.”

“Or what?” Louis feels a bit breathless, still not used to being able to have an exchange like this. She's actually flirting with _Harriet Styles_ right now, her _girlfriend_ , and the mere suggestion of what this kind of banter can lead to makes her dizzy.

Harry squirms in her seat, whimpering low and quiet. She always gets like this when Louis is suggestive, so responsive just from words. Perhaps Louis isn't the only one feeling so utterly gone with how instantly the mood can switch.

(To be completely frank, every moment seems right on the edge of spilling over into sex between them. Louis hopes that doesn't mean they'll burn out and crash once the thrill is gone. She wants to _marry_ this girl.)

“Looouuu, it’s not nice to tease!” Harry drawls out,  pouting across the table at her. She's faking innocence, and Louis snorts, rolling her eyes fondly.

“What do you want to do, then? Carry on our totally normal date where I tug on your curls and tell you how pretty you are?” Louis’ grinning, and she knows she looks wicked, but that's what Harry does to her. _Makes_ her wicked.

Batting her lashes, Harry leans forward on her elbow in a way that makes her breasts push together, distracting Louis entirely. “We do have theatre tickets.” She follows these words by wagging her eyebrows, and honestly she’s so ridiculous. “Could always fool around in the back row.” Finishing off with a wink, Harry attempts to find the straw of her milkshake with her tongue.

The suggestion reminds Louis of what she’d wanted to talk about in the first place, but because she’s so _gay_ and Harry’s tongue is pink and fruitlessly chasing the straw around her melting milkshake, she doesn’t broach the topic with any amount of grace. “Why don’t you ever let me make you come?”

She blurts this out right about the time Harry had finally clamped onto the straw and started sucking up a mouthful. So, when Harry flusters, it’s with the added bonus of trying not to spit take semi frozen dairy into Louis’ face. Louis twitches into action, apologizing as she hands Harry napkins, trying not to just lick up the bit of sweet milk dripping down her girlfriend’s chin.

“ _Louis!_ ” Harry hisses after she’s done wiping up the mess, low and shaky. Her hands tremble a little around the wad of napkins, sticky and damp. “You can’t just... _say_ stuff like that! _We’re in public!_ ” She leans across the table, voice hushed. “Also, since when have you never gotten me off? We get off all the time! _Newly mated couples_ would think we were excessive!”

Louis leans forward as well, matching Harry’s volume and locking her gaze on those bright, surreal green eyes. “Not directly! Baby, I’ve never touched you... _there_ …” She trails off with a blush, unable to truly overstep and say anything dirtier. “You always just grind against me leg, or do it yourself, I’ve never even _seen_ you under those cute knickers of yours. Hell, you always leave them on even when we’re-”

“Is everything okay over here?” They both snap apart and to attention at the waiter’s question, faces red and expressions guilty. The poor server looks just as awkward, shifting from foot to foot and glancing at the huge group that just walked in. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think we’re, ah...you can bring the tab.” Louis answers, staring down at her own hardly touched milkshake, melted and sad. “Thank you.” She tacks on for good measure, sending up a quick, apologetic grimace.

“Do you want a to-go cup for that?” The server asks, gesturing to Louis’ drink with her pen. Despite the awkward circumstance, she seems to be trying her best to do her job well. Bless. Louis resolves to leave a nice tip as an unexpected treat.

“No, we’re headed to the cinema from here, but thank you!” Louis chirps, flashing a confident smile and relaxing when it seems to satisfy their waiter. The girl excuses herself, leaving an already printed check for them on the table.

Louis pays for the meal, Harry protesting only a little, until she’s reminded that she had covered both of their theatre tickets. Once they spill out onto the sidewalk, Harry takes Louis’ hand and begins guiding them along with a determined gait. Her face in profile looks concentrated, bottom lip held between her teeth, brows furrowed, eyes sweeping back and forth as she leads them. Louis is having some difficulty trying to ask what’s gotten into her, focused on keeping step and watching the way Harry’s curls bounce in skittish beams of sunlight.

They arrive at the theatre in record time, the cooler air greeting them as they swing open the door. Harry pulls out her phone, pulling up their digital tickets, then it’s a quick scan of the code in an ushers tablet and they’re standing in the lobby. Louis barely has time to look in the direction of the concessions before her hand is taken up by Harry’s again and she’s being tugged forward once more.

“Harry, love, what’s going-?” Louis’ question is cut off when she sees where they’re headed. Pushing open the door to the omega toilets, Harry leads them in and then begins checking the stalls, ducking her head enough to spot any feet under the doors. The implication stuns Louis to the spot, jaw hanging open and a spark racing up her spine.

Satisfied with finding the stalls vacant, Harry strides back over to Louis and grabs her hand yet again. This time, a pang of arousal settles low in her gut at the touch, and Louis’ feet are clumsy as Harry leads them into the handicap stall at the very end. They’re gonna fool around in the theatre loo, _holy shit they’re gonna fool around in a public loo!_

Door locked behind them, Louis expects Harry to fall into her, expects kissing and touching and all that good stuff. Instead, Harry puts distance between them and crosses her arms over her chest, looking closed off and vulnerable at the same time. Every bit of arousal Louis had been feeling flushes from her system, pooling around her feet like shame and leaving her cold where she stands.

“Love? Hazza, what’s wrong?” Louis ventures, not broaching the gap between them yet for fear of worsening whatever the other girl is feeling.

Harry looks up, shifting her weight and shaking her head out of habit from having her longer tresses. “Does it really bother you? That, uhm...about me keeping my knickers on? And the...erm, the other stuff?” There’s a blush on her cheeks, and she looks so uncomfortable that Louis wishes she could go back in time and keep herself from ever saying something that caused Harry to feel so unsure of herself.

“Babycakes, darling, _no_.” Louis starts to reach for her, but halts the movement halfway, unsteady. “I just...we’ve done so much other stuff? And you never seemed to care about anything else we do, so it kinda stood out to me. I wanted to know if you, like, secretly thought I didn’t want to get you off or something, or maybe hated the thought of me touching you.”

“What? No!” Harry’s voice jumps in volume, louder than the hushed tone they’d started with. “Lou, you’re perfect, I _love_ when you touch me, you teasing me at the restaurant had me shaking!”

“Then why?” Louis asks, finally reaching for her girlfriend and gently coaxing her closer. “Do you think I won’t like what you look like down there? Cause lemme tell ya, I guarantee I’ll _love_ it. I already love it, and I haven’t even _seen_ _it!_ ”

Harry squirms, whining when Louis doesn’t let her pull away again. “It’s not that, you’re so embarrassing sometimes!” The words hold no punch, her voice wavering with the smile she’s trying to hold back. Scandalous subjects always trigger a sort of schoolyard humour in Harry, and Louis grins unabashedly at the twinkle she’s sparked in her girlfriend’s eyes.

Hugging Harry around the middle, Louis rests her chin on the other omega’s chest. Neither of them are particularly busty, something Louis’ always been grateful for as it meant that alphas passed her up for courtship. Harry, though, always expressed a bit of disappointment in the barely B cup size she was sporting, nervously confessing countless times during sleepovers before they were dating that she felt they were disproportionate to the rest of her build.

Louis was all too happy to show her just how mouth watering they were after they became a couple.

From her position, it’s easy for Louis to pout up at Harry, lower lip stuck out dramatically and eyes wide. “Well, then, how come you never let me eat you out? Or touch you there? Or _see_ you there?”

The breath Harry drags in is stuttery, Louis feeling the hitching against her throat. Arms finally coming uncrossed, Harry slides them around Louis’ shoulders and cuddles close, hiding her face against Louis’ neck. “You really wanna know?” Is muffled against the sweaty skin of Louis’ neck, and when she nods in response, Harry whimpers out something Louis can’t quite catch.

“Sorry?” She prompts, gentle as she can, rubbing her hands up and down Harry’s back.

“Igettoowet.” Comes again, rushed together as her girlfriend squirms against her.

“Still can’t quite-”

“I get too wet, okay!” Harry whines, nuzzling closer against Louis despite how fidgety she’s gotten. This close, the faint hint of honey starting to waft around them hits Louis like a freight train, and her mouth waters like a dam breaking. “I, like, produce too much slick, so-”

Louis spins them around so their position is reversed, Harry gasping and pinned against the stall door. Seeing Harry flushed and wound up from being _embarrassed_ makes Louis charged with arousal once more. “Why the hell would you think that would be a problem for me? Do you know how _mouth watering_ your scent is? How much it drives me _crazy?_ Baby, I’ve been wanting to drown in your slick since that time you got flustered watching _Imagine Me and You!_ ”

“I wasn’t expecting the two omegas to kiss! Seeing same dynamic pairings always makes me kinda horny, I can’t help it!” Harry squirms under Louis’ gaze, words less defensive and more explanatory. Her brow crumbles slightly, confused pout pulling the corners of her lips down. “Wait, we watched that movie at the start of semester? Don’t tell me you…”

“Had a crush on you since we met? Of course I have.” She states it matter of factly, voice soft at the edges. “Harry, I think you’re wonderful. Always have.”

They stand there a bit awed, Harry with the realisation of just how long Louis’ been pining, and Louis with how, even now, they can learn new things about each other. Finally, softly, Harry simply sighs out a quiet, “Wow…” and pulls Louis in for a kiss.

It’s easy to give in, Louis moaning against the plush lips pressing against her own and hands gripping Harry’s hips tighter. She always gets a little lost in the feeling, mind dazed from the sensation and heart giddy from the act. Their lips slot together easily, made for each other, _they’re made for each other_ , and Louis sways on her feet, pressing into Harry more heavily.

When they break apart, it’s because they hear the restroom door open, startling them back to the present where they’re currently making out in the theatre toilets and probably missed who knows how much of the movie they were meant to be watching. Catching each other’s eye, the two stifle giggles into palms and grin helplessly at each other while shuffling quietly away from the stall door, not wanting to make it so obvious to the other occupant that there were two sets of feet in the stall. Louis thanks the inconsistent lighting in the room at large for causing dark patches in the stalls themselves.

They wait until the stranger has finished and the door shuts behind them before bursting into helpless laughter, the air cleared of any lingering tension. Louis watches Harry wipe mirthful tears from her eyes, and can't help pulling her in for a new, lighter kiss. Chaste pecks are traded back and forth, interrupted by grins, tapering off into content smiles and lazy swaying.

“Hi.” Harry whispers, laughter still present even in that single syllable.

“Hi.” Louis whispers back, twisting one of Harry's curls around her finger. “So, you get really wet? That's what's been bothering you?”

Even in the dim light, Harry blushes red enough to see. She nods, teeth denting into her bottom lip and looking so _shy_ that Louis kinda wants to eat her up.

“You know I don't care, right? I'm an omega too, it's not like slick offends me.” Shrugging, Louis keeps the tone casual. “Honestly there's not a thing about you that would make me not like you anymore. Even if you wanted to never show me that part of you, I'll still think I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Yeah?” Harry's eyes sparkle, a dimple digging deep into her cheek. Louis can't help but kiss the divet, making Harry giggle delightfully.

“Yeah. Now come on, let's go watch the rest of that movie you spent money on!”

 

* * *

 

Harry's been squirming in her seat ever since they snuck into the auditorium to watch the rest of their movie. To be fair, Louis’ been brushing her fingers idly along the back of her girlfriend's neck, so it's completely her fault.

It's the easiest thing, riling Harry up. She's just so _responsive_ , thighs pressing together whenever Louis leans in and whispers in her ear. Louis doesn't point it out, acts oblivious to her girlfriend's quiet whimpers, but she knows. She sees every twitch, hears every quiet sound.

They hadn't missed too much of the movie, just the beginning set up, so it was easy to catch up on whatever they had missed. Or at least, it would've been if Louis cared enough to pay attention. She's been more focused on Harry, teasing her and getting a whiff of her sweet honey scent.

“Lou, stop, _please_.” Harry whimpers out around the three quarter mark, and Louis feigns innocence until she sees her girlfriend's face when the screen flashes brighter. She looks wrecked, eyes glassy and lip puffy from Harry's teeth. Probably flushed something awful as well, though the lighting doesn't accommodate seeing it.

Louis bites her own lip, an idea coming to mind. “Do you really want me to stop?” The question feels dangerous in a thrilling way, and Harry must feel it as well if the way her eyes widen is a clue. “Promise I will, if you want me to.”

Harry's breath hitches, and she thinks a moment before looking Louis in the eye and shaking her head.

“You sure?” Louis asks, gut clenching at the thought of what she wants to try, what she wants to _do_.

“Yeah.” It's barely a breath, just loud enough to hear over the film, but that one word makes Louis vibrate with anticipation. “Don't...don't stop.”

Licking her lips, Louis chances a glance around them. They'd sat in the very back, not wanting to walk in front of anyone when they slipped in late, and as it is there's not that many people there to begin with. Turning her focus back on Harry, Louis sucks in a steadying breath. “If you change your mind, that's ok, I won't be mad.”

Harry simply nods, lashes fluttering the way they do when they're caught up in the sheets. But they're in a theatre, in _public_ , and it's a bit mind boggling.

Adjusting in her seat, Louis gently lifts the armrest between them and shuffles closer, eyes running over Harry's body. She's slouched in her seat, skirt bunched up slightly from it, and Louis just about slides onto her knees to bury her face underneath the pleated fabric. Instead, she trails a fingertip along Harry's upper thigh, watching her face all the while.

Harry's eyes are glued to where Louis moves her hand, stroking only where skin is exposed, breath hitching and teeth sunk into her lower lip. When Louis finally flattens her hand against her inner thigh, she can feel the muscle flex beneath her palm.

“Did I ever tell you that it drives me _crazy_ when you're in a skirt?” Louis whispers, leaning in close enough to scent Harry's neck. (Dynamic Bio classes would have you believe omegas can't scent other omegas, but it's a myth, meant to fool you into thinking omegas can only be with alphas. Louis knows. She's gotten slick at enough awkward times over smelling another omega's heat on them to buy into the propaganda.) She's still only teasing, still giving Harry the chance to push her away. Still a little scared that she's asking too much.

Harry swallows, shaking her head, gasping when Louis places a chaste kiss under her jaw.

“Well, it does, always makes me wanna get on my knees right there and worship you.” Louis continues, carefully dragging her hand further up Harry's thigh. When her girlfriend parts her legs easily, Louis has to bite back a moan. The action makes the skirt ride up even more, and it's nearly too much to handle. “God, baby, can I touch you? Please, I wanna make you feel good.”

Harry presses a knuckle to her lips, stifling a moan of her own, and nods her head. She's got her eyes squeezed shut, and Louis drops kisses to the place where her eyelashes leave shadows on her cheeks. “Open your eyes, love, want you to watch. After all, it's a theatre, yeah?”

With another muffled whimper, Harry pries her eyes open and focuses her gaze on where Louis’ hand is stalled midway up her inner thigh. Peppering a few more kisses to her cheek, Louis finally, _finally_ , slips her hand under her girlfriend's skirt.

She's only feeling over the fabric of Harry's knickers, but even that has Louis shaking. The material is completely soaked, wet beneath her fingers as Louis rubs them in teasing strokes. Harry's got her hand fully covering her mouth now, and she's squirming in her seat enough to trigger soft creaks from the ancient springs. If this is how she acts when Louis’ just petting her over her knickers...well, Louis’ concerned enough to slow the drag of her finger tips.

“Sshhh, baby, don't wanna get in trouble, right?” Louis pants against her neck, sucking in lung fulls of her girlfriend's scent and mouth flooding from the smell. “Gonna get under your pretty knickers, yeah? Can't do that if they kick us out.”

Louis could swear Harry's eyes roll back when she pulls back to look at her, body trembling but movement stilling to a twitch. Ducking back in to suck a mark behind Harry's ear, Louis makes good on her word and slips her fingers under the soaked crotch of Harry's knickers.

It's so _wet_ , slick coating her fingers before she's even properly slid them between Harry's folds. Her short cropped curls are matted and sticky with how saturated with wetness they are, and _oh god Louis wants to taste it_.

“ _Baby._ ” She chokes out, drawing her fingers out just to look at them. They glisten in the low light, and Louis can't help bringing them up to suck into her mouth.

Harry whines out a low, pitiful moan behind her hand, eyes still watching like Louis told her to. Louis laps at the flavour, sucking a bit more obscenely than necessary at each of her fingers. Might as well put on a little show.

Pulling her fingers out with a wet smack, Louis watches Harry's face as she lowers her hand back down to slip under her girlfriend's skirt yet again.

It's different from when she's watched Harry's face in the past when they've fooled around. In the past, there was a concentration in her eyes, whether while bringing Louis off or when rubbing herself against Louis’ thigh. An element of focus. Now, however, those eyes are glassy, face alternating between slack and tense, brows furrowing and smoothing out with every new slide of Louis’ fingers. When Louis finally rubs her finger between her innermost lips, Harry's whole body jerks before melting back into the seat.

She's goddamn beautiful and Louis doesn't understand how she ever got so fucking lucky.

Louis’ feeling around by familiarity in her subject matter at the moment, hand hidden under Harry's skirt and knickers, and there's something about it that makes it all feel dirtier. As if palming her girlfriend in a public theatre wasn't scandalous enough. She could just lift the material if she wanted to see a little better, but then Harry would be completely exposed to anyone's eyes. Not that there's really anyone around to look, but _still_.

She's just been sort of lazily rubbing a finger around, purposefully avoiding touching Harry's clit, when she feels pressure at the front of her own jeans. Looking down, Harry's free hand has found its way to Louis’ fly, rubbing in time with her own finger. Glancing up, Harry's still looking at where Louis’ hand disappears under her skirt, yet here she is trying to feel Louis up over her skinnies.

Leaning in, Louis whispers a amused “Cheeky.” into Harry's ear before targeting her swollen clitoris and rubbing in tight circles.

Harry arches in her seat, the hand covering her mouth barely muffling the surprised yelp she lets out. She brings the other up to help stop the noise, small whimpers escaping, and Louis eases up. Harry's trembling as she settles back into her seat, and Louis checks around them to see if anyone noticed.

None of the other handful of people in the auditorium seem to have caught on, but the film looks to be in it's climax. Louis would rather not be caught with her hand in her girlfriend's underwear when the credits start rolling.

Pulling her hand out, she once again marvels at how wet it's gotten. She's pretty sure her fingers are pruny. Bringing them up to her face, Louis takes a deep breath, scenting the sticky sweet wetness. It's earthier than Harry's regular pheromones, richer in a way Louis’ only gotten hints at until now. Sucking the slick from each finger, she notes this time that Harry tastes exactly how she smells, like honey and something personal.

Harry's head is lolling back and forth on the back of her seat, hands dropped into her lap as she pants. It's such a lewd sight, her girlfriend slouched nearly out of her seat, legs spread wide, skirt rucked up and knickers displaced. It's filthy, the most wanton thing Louis’ ever witnessed.

She kind of wants to wrap Harry in her arms and kiss her face.

It's the most domestic type of feeling, warm in her chest as she instead helps sort Harry out, and probably weird to think. Most people would be thinking dirty, naughty thoughts, but here Louis is instead wanting to make sure Harry's ready to face the world (or at least enough to make it home with decency). It's not the first time this is Louis’ emotional reaction to fooling around, either.

When they make out on the couch, when they're tangled in the sheets after sex, when Harry sings lyrics to songs she writes about Louis and the words are...suggestive. Louis will have a thought, soft and gentle, about wanting to braid Harry's hair, tuck her into bed, be embarrassingly supportive of Harry's beautiful singing voice.

It's something she might think more about later, a thought to poke at when she's having trouble sleeping on the rare night Harry isn't sleeping in her arms. Right now, she's peppering kisses to her girlfriend's cheeks and whispering about how good she was for her. Right now, the movie is ending and they need to be presentable when the lights come up. Right now, reality awaits.

 

* * *

 

Leaving the theatre is less awkward than Louis had worried. Oddly enough, the smell of concession stand popcorn is strong enough to either cover the scent of an aroused omega, or burn your nostrils so bad you can't smell anything. Either way, no one seems keen to their escapades, so they make a clean exit with no fuss.

Walking Harry to her flat, however, is a little more of a nuisance. Her scent has always been attention grabbing, cloying and seductive whether Harry means for it to be or not. So it seems like every Tom, Brooke, and Danny they pass by on the sidewalk starts drooling the moment they catch a whiff.

Not that Harry notices, not the way Louis does. Harry's busy nuzzling into Louis’ side, sweet and flushed, whispering naughty things into Louis’ ear that has her blushing despite herself. Louis, on the other hand, is left to tighten her grip on Harry's waist any time someone shows a little too much interest in the state Harry's in.

(Louis’ glad they're walking together. She's had the unfortunate experience of walking home on her own after a hookup before. Seen the hunger in the eyes of every alpha she passed. Had to even tell a few to kindly fuck off when they tried to coax her back home with them. So she's glad she's at Harry's side now.)

Her flat isn't too far, but the walk there feels like an eternity. Between wanting to just ravish her girlfriend right there, and ready to beat off any alpha that's dumb enough to try and approach them, when they finally reach the complex Louis is wound up. They take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together and giggles filling the stairwell, and once Louis unlocks the door to her flat they tumble past the threshold in a rush.

Louis has to try a few times to kick the door closed, distracted with Harry grabbing her face and kissing her breathless. She has already started trying to tug Louis’ clothes off, whining until Louis lifts her arms up, vest being yanked off in one motion. Louis hadn't bothered with a bra today, so she's left naked from the waist up in her flat's living area.

“Ease up, love, you're gonna rip something!” Louis giggles, endeared and awed as always by Harry's enthusiasm. She still can't believe _Harriet Styles_ wants her like this.

“Shut up and finish what you started!” Harry shoots back, face split in a wide grin. She's moved on to opening Louis’ fly, tugging her forward by the hold on the waistband and making Louis laugh. “ _Louise Willow Tomlinson_ , if you don't get out of your kit and fuck me _right this instant_ -!”

“Oi, alright, at least let's get to the bedroom, hey?” She's laughing now, breathless and dizzy and so goddamn _in love_ . Taking hold of Harry's hands, Louis leads them back to her bedroom. It's a short walk, since her flat is tiny, but in this instance it's a good thing. Pushing Harry to land on her back on the bed, Louis takes a moment to register what she gets to do, what _she's going to do_.

Crawling up Harry's long body, Louis drops random kisses to any point she deems worthy; her tummy, her inner forearm, her cleavage, the hollow of her throat, her shoulder. Harry's still in her clothes, Louis half undressed from her girlfriend's valiant efforts, and something about it makes Louis’ gut clench with added arousal.

“I love when you look at me like that.” Harry murmurs, the blush on her cheeks visible in the light filtering in through the miniscule window. “It makes me feel...god, it makes me hot all over, like, ehm, maybe you'll eat me up? Wait, no, maybe like…erm, it's hard to say, but it doesn't feel like when an alpha says he wants to do nasty things to me, but like...like you want me?”

Louis flashes hot for a second, bowled over with the admission. She reels a bit, blinking back the shock, and when she can see straight again she flattens against Harry so she can cup her face between her palms, guiding them into a deep kiss. It's slower, a departure from the rush of only a moment ago, but when they break apart they're both panting just as much.

“Course I want you, want you anyway I can have you. I…” Louis can't say it, not yet, not when it's only been a month, she doesn't want to _scare Harry off,_ she has to hold in those three ground shaking words, it's too soon, it's-

“I love you, Lou.” Harry says it so easily, soft and gooey and crashing every thought racing through Louis’ brain to a halt. She stalls out, and it must show on her face, because Harry's now giggling in amusement. “You look as if I've blown your mind!”

“Well pardon me! The girl I've had feelings for since the start of school just said she _loves_ me, I'm allowed to be mystified!” Louis is a bit too loud, never good with volume control when she's surprised or excited. She ducks down to bite gently at Harry's jaw, huffing at being able to feel the other omega giggle beneath her. Honestly, this woman. “Here I was thinking about how it was too soon to say it meself, and you just... _say it!_ ”

Harry rubs her hands along her sides, awkwardly kissing Louis’ close cropped hair. “Well then, it should be a lot easier now that I've broken the stigma.” She pauses, obviously waiting for Louis to say it back. When she doesn't, Harry digs her fingers into Louis’ soft waist, making her shriek. “Say you love me!”

“No! I'll say it when I'm ready!” Louis squawks, trying to roll away from Harry's tickling fingers. They follow her, though, Harry rolling with her to straddle over her hips. Louis realizes her mistake when she can no longer squirm away under Harry's weight. “Gee’ off ya loon, I call fookin mercy!”

“Your accent’s thicker! That's adorable!” Harry laughs, trying to squeeze her finger tips under where Louis’ clamped her arms tight against her sides. “Say it, say that you love me! Tell me with your thick Donny accent!”

“Never!” Louis hollers, finally fighting back by attacking Harry's sides with her fingertips. Harry squawks, slapping at Louis’ hands and curling in on herself so she's balled up on top of Louis’ bare chest.

They catch their breath, heaped together on the bed, and Louis’ cheeks ache with how wide she's grinning. While she's laying there, she tries reaching for the cord to her bedside lap, but she's just shy of being able to reach the section that clicks it on. She wants to see Harry, have her lit up  so her dimples make deep shadows in her cheeks. A hand joins her's, easily reaching the clicker, and she turns to look at Harry, sat up and leaning over above her.

She can't help staring, especially when the light _tik_ s on and Harry's cast in soft, filtered light. She looks so pretty like this, in a soft cotton tee and short pleated skirt, in Louis’ room, in Louis’ _bed_. Her mouth waters, and Louis swallows just so it won't choke her.

Harry's straightened back up now, looking down at Louis with a blush. Dragging her hands along the exposed, slightly goosebumped skin of Harry's thighs, Louis is reminded of why they stumbled into the bedroom in the first place. Right

“Still want me to fuck you, love?” Louis asks, just in case. Harry nods, biting at her lip and squirming in Louis’ lap. It makes Louis need air, sucked from her lungs just like that. “Alright darling, ok if I touch you again?”

“Yes, _please_.” Harry breathes, moving to get up. Louis holds her in place, though, drags her hands up and under the hem of her skirt.

“Like this, baby, want you just like this.” Louis says it softly, not a demand but a request. Harry looks so beautiful like this, Louis wants to watch her buck and shiver while Louis’ trapped underneath. “Okay?”

Harry nods again, eyelashes fluttering, and Louis removes one of her hands to reach up, cup her jaw, coax her down into a kiss. Her other hand dips between Harry's thighs, cupping her through her knickers, and Louis swallows the moan that follows.

They kiss like that, Louis palming Harry and nibbling at her lips, until the thighs pressing her into the mattress are shaking. Louis’ hand is already damp, the soft cotton fabric of Harry's knickers probably having been soaked like this for most of their date. A fleeting thought about how uncomfortable that must have been crosses her mind, and then she's slipping her hand past the barrier once more.

Harry keens, breaking out of their kiss to choke on a moan, and Louis marvels at the way her throat looks fragile when she tilts her head back. Fingers slippery where they tease out pretty little sounds from Harry's kiss red lips, Louis once again thinks about how wonderful it'd be to drown in her girlfriend's slick.

And then she remembers that this time, she _can_.

“Baby, _Hazza,_ can I eat you out? Please, promise it'll be so good, want you to sit on my face in your skirt and let me taste you.” Louis’ voice comes out needy, desperate, exactly how she feels. She circles her fingertip lightly around Harry's clit, whining when Harry bucks against her hand, and she lets out another helpless, “Please!”

“Yeah, you can - Louis, please!” Harry looks dazed, eyes unfocused and cheeks so very pink. She doesn't _move_ , though, just continues to buck against Louis’ hand like she forgot she has to relocate in order to _sit on Louis’ face_.

Louis’ whimpering pathetically under her, hand slipping out from Harry's knickers and smearing slick across her inner thigh as she moves both of her hands to grip her hips, trying to pull Harry forward. She finally gets her to shuffle up her torso, and then Harry falls onto her hands so she can crawl up easier. Hooking her fingers under Harry's skirt, Louis slides the ruined, soaked through knickers down her trembling legs. It takes coordination that they both barely have at the moment, but Louis manages to get them off and slung somewhere else in the room.

With nothing obstructing her view, Louis finally sets her hungry gaze up Harry's skirt, hands gripping her hips to keep her where she wants for now. She moans helplessly at the sight, can see the way Harry's started to drip down her thighs. Dark curls shine with wetness, and Louis’ nostrils flare at getting to breathe in earth and honey this satisfyingly close. Guiding Harry to kneel right above her face, Louis feels worshipful, mouth so flooded she's probably actually drooling.

Moving a hand so she can thumb Harry open, Louis nearly starts crying at how pink and sweet and _drenched_ she is. “God, fuck, baby, you're so wet, I love it.”

“It's not, like, too much?” Louis’ eyes snap up at Harry's question, heartbroken by the uncertainty there. “S'just, uhm, it's a bit much, innit? I've tried to hide it cause, like...it's not normal, is it?”

“I couldn't care less if it's normal.” Louis says, serious. “I think it's the hottest fuckin’ thing on the planet.” She means it, too, has to squeeze her thighs together against the way she throbs in her half opened jeans. She whines, tongue lashing at the back of her front teeth.

Harry's eyes are wide, face in awe as she blinks down at Louis, blushing pink to the tip of her ears. Her breath is coming in hitched little gasps, like she keeps getting surprised anew that Louis would be this gone for her, and she trembles where she holds herself above Louis’ face. It's almost teasing, the way Harry keeps just out of reach, and Louis is horribly aroused and achingly needy at having to wait.

“Baby, _Harry_ , please, I need it, lemme taste you, promise it'll be so good.” Louis’ begging finally spurs Harry into closing the distance, or maybe her shaky legs just couldn't hold her up anymore, because her hips drop down that last little bit.

Brain shorting out, Louis can only open up wide and moan when she's suddenly smothered, tongue swiping eagerly at where Harry is hot and wet and _fantastic_. Harry drips into her mouth, onto her tongue, down her throat, and Louis thinks for a delirious moment that it's like Panacea, granting her eternal youth and healing her from the inside out.

Then Harry slouches her weight onto her hands and rolls her hips and Louis snaps back into herself.

She's eaten girls out before, hell, she's eaten a few male omegas out too, but none of those memories hold a candle to eating Harry Styles out. She's shaky and jerking and moaning helplessly with every stroke of Louis’ tongue, and it's deliciously raw. When Louis drags a winding path between her dripping lips, Harry gasps like she's experiencing a miracle, and when Louis sucks from end to tip, she practically sobs.

It's an ego trip and a half, but the best is when Louis gently licks her tongue up into where Harry's the sweetest and she _clenches_. Louis’ legs bend up, hips rocking her own swollen mound against the pressure of her thighs pressed tightly together, and Louis thinks she could die right here, blessed and suffocated by Harry's cunt.

She fucks her tongue up as far as she can manage, and when Harry nearly gets unseated from her eagerness, Louis’ hands grip at the tops of Harry's thighs. She pulls back with an obscene slurp, face and chin delightfully wet, and grins up at Harry.

“Alright?” Louis’ voice comes out rough, tongue flicking out to taste the flavour left on her lips. They feel tingly, raw from where Harry's curls rubbed against them, and she can't help moaning at her luck.

Harry lets out a kind of squeak, face red and body trembling. She's got that look again, like in the loo at the theatre, like she's embarrassed but likes it, and Louis wonders if it could be a thing. Wonders if she could get Harry wound up and whining, all wet in her knickers and shy about it, and then make her sit on Louis’ face anyways. Tease her with how wet she's gotten, make her say it herself.

Louis gets distracted, so when Harry whimpers out, “Lou, more, _please_ ,” it takes a second to remember that she could just do all that _right now_.

But, she wants to talk to Harry about it first, and anyways that's no way to do it the first time. Besides, Harry just pleaded so sweetly for more, and Louis will never be able to deny her anything.

Refocusing her hazy thoughts, Louis slots her mouth hungrily over Harry yet again.

Her tongue slips back up inside Harry so easily, the omega above her so open and slick and twitching. It's heaven, Louis’ in _heaven_ , and now that she's reacquainted with her hands, she slides one under the skirt to rub over Harry's sensitive clit.

Louis watches over the hem of the skirt as Harry's head falls back, keening. The pleated material is bunched up across the lower half of Louis’ face, smelling of salt and polyester and honey. It rubs the back of her hand as she teases her fingertip back and forth over Harry's clit. It spills out and covers Louis’ chest, dragging against her nipples and teasing her right back.

Harry's hips are rolling against her mouth, slow and jerking, whimpered little words cut off and lost in soft moans. She moves for Louis so beautifully, wanton and gentle, Louis’ best dream come true. Louis can't be blamed for pulling back and rolling them so Harry's spread out and wide eyed under her.

“Wanna get my fingers in you, get my mouth on you here.” Louis confesses, circling her fingertip around Harry's clit to demonstrate her meaning.

The other girl spreads herself on the bed, arms above her head and legs lazily splayed wide, so inviting. Harry's voice is raw when she croaks out a soft, “ _Please_.”

Bending one of Harry's knees up, Louis slots herself between alabaster thighs and wastes no time gently sliding her finger inside. It's so easy, slick gushing out around her index and sliding down to soak into the sheets. Adding a second finger and moaning at how scorchingly _hot_ Harry is here, Louis flips the skirt out of her way and carefully latches her mouth around Harry's swollen clitoris.

Harry wails, arching up from the mattress and thighs squeezing around Louis’ head for a moment. Louis crooks her fingers, suckling at the nub like she has all afternoon to spend on Harry. Well, she does, but if the sudden hand in her hair is anything to go by, Harry's gonna start begging soon.

“Ah! Louis!” Bingo. Looking up Harry's body, Louis flicks her tongue quickly and almost grins when it makes her jerk hard enough to bounce the mattress. “ _Please_ , I'm - oh! - I'm so close!”

Louis doubles down, fucking her fingers quicker and sucking harder, palm filling with slick from where it sluices out with every thrust. Harry's thighs are around her ears again, shaky and tight enough Louis almost doesn't hear the build up in Harry's moans, chopped up and growing shorter. When Louis moans, rutting her hips against the bed and close to coming just from this, Harry clamps down tight around her fingers and spasms against her lips.

Louis licks her through it, greedily slurping up the fresh slick as it pulses out over her fingers. It's the greatest thing that's ever happened to her, tied only with meeting Harry in the first place, and Louis whimpers when she feels her own boy shorts get wetter in her jeans. When Harry's melting into the mattress, thighs relaxing and inner walls loosening around Louis’ fingers, she pulls them out gently and watches even more slick drool out and into Harry's crack.

She laps it up, Harry twitching with a hiss but not pushing her off. Her fingers are still in Louis’ hair, lazily carding through the short strands, and when Louis peeks up at her Harry's looking right back, dopey smile on her lips.

Crawling up Harry's body, Louis crashes their lips together messily, fucking the taste of earth and honey into Harry's mouth with her tongue. When she pulls back, Harry looks properly debauched, her own slick smeared onto her lips and a renewed, dazed look in her eyes.

“Still think I don't love every bit of you?” Louis asks, voice rough but quiet in the silence of the room. She raises her hand that isn't covered in slick to cup Harry's jaw, digging her thumb into her dimple when it appears.

“Say it, then.” Harry wraps heavy arms around Louis, still weak with endorphins. “Say it in your thick, Donny accent.”

Louis’ face splits into a grin, both of them giggling. She obeys this time, laying it on thick for the hell of it. “Ah loov ya, Harreh.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave some love in the comments?


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